


guide you home

by chocobos



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pining, Roommates, hap halloween!!, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-20 23:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12444750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocobos/pseuds/chocobos
Summary: "You want to sit there and watch me drink blood? Not gonna lie, Iggy, that's a troubling kink."





	guide you home

**Author's Note:**

> i actually finished this in time for halloween!!!!!! 
> 
> anyway, i'm working on a handful of longer (way, way longer) fics at the moment, but here, have this! a sappy vampire fic i couldn't get out of my head until i wrote it. 
> 
> this could _technically_ be placed in my roommates au verse, but i wrote it initially as a spin on that universe? so here, enjoy a roommates au to my roommates au, what the actual hell. 
> 
> unbeta'd, but i hope u enjoy this anyway! let me know what you think!

-☆-

 

 

It figures he’d get caught doing something completely non-sequential.

Prompto's in the kitchen, drinking from a mug impatiently as he scrolls through his phone. He shouldn't be doing this. He doesn't actually have the time to tempt fate like he is, he has to be at the Citadel for Crownsguard training in less than an hour. But he's just  _so_ thirsty. Parched, really. 

He usually has better self-control -- scrubbing copper out of his mouth is never a pleasant experience, especially so close to a shift. Today’s a fluke, though; he’s in his own apartment. He should have enough to time, theoretically. As long as nothing stalls him.

Prompto supposes karma has decided to cash in early this morning because it's then that he hears the front door open. He startles, the distraction causing the mug in his hand to jump. Some of its contents dribble down his chin. 

 _Blood_.

“Good morning, Prompto, I apologize for dropping in like -- Are you _alright_?” Ignis asks, looking concerned.

Prompto’s stomach drops out, phantomly, and he takes in a grounding breath. He doesn’t deserve this. Prompto completely forgot Ignis was coming back today; he marked it on his calender days ago but between the stress of training and losing out on blood supply, it slipped his mind.

He’s ashamed.

Granted, Prompto could play this off, probably. But the thing is, he’s horrible at lying. Especially when it comes to Ignis.

He’s never quite mastered letting the other man down.

"Oh uh, no, Iggy. It's okay. I'm not hurt," Prompto hastens to explain. It's hard to swallow against the cement block gathering in his throat. He knows Ignis won't let this go, will drag him into the bathroom to inspect the imaginary injury. Prompto can imagine it now, the face he makes when he realizes Prompto was telling the truth and he isn't hurt. 

He has to come clean. He can't see another possible way out of this, not without wasting Ignis' time. 

Astrals, he's actually doing this, isn't he?

"You know how I feel about you lying to me, Prompto. I can see that you're bleeding," Ignis' tone is  _ice_ , but Prompto knows he's only worried. Still, it's enough to make guilt's iron-clad grip around him coil even tighter. 

“Yeah, uh. About that. That’s not mine?” Prompto whisper-asks.

Ignis’ eyebrows make a sprint for his hairline.

“Pardon?”

Prompto grins, nervously; faintly, and runs a hand over the back of his neck sheepishly. He distantly feels like crying, but he pushes that aside. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise, if he hopes hard enough. This might finally push him into getting over one of his closest friends. He can once and for all bury Cupid's arrow and stop all of his hopeless pining. 

And it _is_ hopeless. Coming clean to Ignis about the whole drinking blood thing will absolutely kill any possible interest the older man has in him, he's sure. 

He's been in love with Ignis since he was seventeen. Prompto's had a long time to prepare himself for rejection, even if this wasn't the way he thought he'd face it. Prompto's grateful he doesn't have to divulge his feelings, truthfully. 

That's a whole other mess he isn't equipped to deal with.

“I was drinking it,” Prompto says, after an extended pause.

The look on Ignis’ face would be funny if it didn’t hurt so damn much.

“Why on Eos were you doing that?”

Prompto bites his lip.

He's nervous, of course -- coming clean about being a supernatural creature would make anyone's stomach drop out -- but he's also worried he can't find a way to admit this without sounding straight out of Twilight fanfiction. Prompto's never had to tell anyone this particular fact before. He's only been a...vampire for two years now; he's been careful enough to not to get caught red-handed ( _ha_ ) like this before now. 

Prompto clears his throat. He can do this. Jump into the abyss already, Argentum.

“I…uh, might have a blood fetish? You know, of the eternal variety,” Prompto jokes. He only barely resists finger gunning. It’s an incredible victory.

There are a few beats of stunned silence, and then,

“You’re not a vampire,” Ignis tells him, disbelieving.

“Oh, on the contrary, I totally am, buddy,” Prompto says. He doesn’t have control of his mouth anymore; he’s watching it run from twenty feet away in horror, at this point. “I can show you if you promise you won’t run for Galahd.”

Prompto wouldn’t blame him if he ran anyway. He _is_ a monster.

Ignis levels him with a look. Right, insinuate the guy you’re trying to confess to is a coward. Slam dunk, buddy.

“If it will allow you to drop this nonsense, then by all means.” Ignis waves a hand forward.

Prompto sighs, but squares his shoulders. 

"Alright. Just try not to scream, I guess," says Prompto, and before he can possibly shove his foot down his throat any further, he steps forward and lets his canines drop. 

He really isn't sure what the proper term is here. Calling them canines makes him feel a little bit like a werewolf, but he's not exactly complaining. He's pretty thrilled, if nothing else. The existence of werewolves doesn't sound so far-fetched anymore. 

His life is definitely turning into a fantasy novel, Six help him.

Ignis narrows his eyes at him, looking less than impressed. "I'll admit, you've never been this dedicated to a prank before. Did His Highness put you up to all this?" 

Prompto laughs. He doesn't find this very funny, not at all, but he's uncomfortable, and it's the only way he can stop himself from spiraling. 

“No, dude. They’re real. My fangs, real as hell,” Prompto insists, trying to convince him.

"Uh huh," Ignis hums, stepping even closer. At least he doesn't look scared, though, to be fair, that's mainly because Ignis doesn't believe him. Prompto, however, will take his victories whenever they come. 

Even if they are immediately followed by failure.

“Ignis,” Prompto stresses. “This isn’t a prank, I swear."

“I’m finding this rather hard to believe,” Ignis admits, though his eyes have softened. “Supernatural creatures are fiction.”

“Imagine my surprise when I got cornered by one at night,” Prompto snorts.

It still isn't very funny.

Judging by his roommates stare, he doesn’t find it amusing either.

“You were attacked?”

Prompto shrugs, distinctly uncomfortable, now. Ignis sounds angry, he looks it too, but he’s having trouble discerning what -- or _who_ \-- it’s directed at.

“Well, I certainly wasn’t born like this.”

He still can’t decode the look on Ignis’ face. He doesn’t think it’s bad, though, which is a startling comfort.

“Can I see those teeth again, perhaps?”

“Seriously, dude?”

“Prompto.”

Prompto sighs, though he really doesn’t mind all that much. Mainly he’s shocked Ignis isn’t running away screaming, but he can shove that aside and show his roommate one of his closely guarded secrets.

No big deal.

Prompto isn’t freaking out at _all_.

(False. He's freaking out a Whole Lot.)

He lets his teeth fall again -- which never gets less weird no matter how many times he thinks it -- and opens his mouth.

Ignis steps forward, close enough that Prompto can smell the wafting notes of his cologne and aftershave. He has absolutely no idea (jasmine? vanilla? maybe apples?) the hell he smells like, other than it's  _good_ and he  _likes_ it. Which is more than enough for him. 

"May I?" Ignis asks, outstretching a hand.

Is he?

Is Ignis asking to stick his hand in his mouth?

He blinks.

“Uh?”

“I’d rather not ask you to bite me,” Ignis tells him, voice a touch amused. “Bar that, this is the only other solution.”

Ignis isn't wearing his gloves, which makes this far more intimate than it has any right to be. Prompto inwardly groans. He can do this. Bros stick their hands in each other's mouths all the time, probably. What's a little mouth exploration between friends? Absolutely nothing, that's what.

“Or you could, I don’t know, believe me?” He asks, as a last ditch effort to retain some dignity.

“I don’t wish to put you in an un--”

“Just stick your hand in my mouth, Iggy,” Prompto cuts in, determinedly.

“Oh, alright,” says Ignis, and he does.

It isn't as awkward as Prompto had been fearing, but it's still uncomfortable as hell. There's a part of him, one that he can't  _shake_ , that wants nothing more than to suck on Ignis' fingers. This is so not the time for his questionable libido to make an appearance. It figures he'd be unable to do this without getting his feelings all over Ignis. 

Shit. 

“They don’t feel like glass,” Ignis mutters to himself, seemingly oblivious to Prompto's turmoil.

He rolls his eyes. “Oof cwurs tha dwn’t, Igsy,” Prompto hisses around Ignis’ fingers.

Thankfully, Ignis finally removes his fingers. Prompto stretches his mouth open and lets his teeth fall back again.

"Fascinating. Are they retractable, then?" Ignis asks, eyes starting to get glassy. 

Gods, he doesn’t know if this is worse. Ignis is totally getting his nerd-on right now.

“Yeah,” Prompto admits. “I guess there are some things the legends got wrong.”

Ignis makes a considering noise in his throat.

“Interesting," he mutters, low enough that Prompto's sure it wasn't meant for him to hear. 

Prompto grins, but it falls again a few moments later. “Does this mean you believe me now, dude?”

Ignis' expression turns somber, and he lets one of his hands fall forward to wrap gently --non-constricting; Prompto could easily pull away if he really wanted to -- around Prompto's wrist. He wonders faintly if Ignis is trying to find his pulse. 

He won't, but Prompto can practically  _taste_ his. 

“I believe I owe you an apology,” Ignis starts. “I deeply regret not believing you sooner.”

Prompto smiles at him.

"Iggy, it's fine. Really. If anything, shouldn't you be angry with me for keeping secrets?"

“Perhaps, but I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“Come on, buddy. Turn that frown upside down! Ask me about my totally-not-but-kind-of rad eternal ailment. I know you want to,” he says.

Ignis' mask lasts all of twenty-five seconds before it crumbles. Prompto can't recall a time he's broken through his composure this fast. His face is open and kind; Prompto's heart kickstarts into a happy dance in his chest. 

“What else did the legends get wrong?”

Prompto brightens, slightly. “Well, as it turns out? The sun only causes a sunburn, but I guess it can get kind of serious if you’re in it for too long? We can eat garlic, thank the Astrals. Also, unfortunately, I do not turn into a bat.”

Ignis laughs.

“Pity,” he replies, warmly.

“Could you imagine how much cooler I’d be if I was able to turn into a bat? But, no,” Prompto says, dragging out the ‘o’ obnoxiously. “I just got saddled with the whole, drinking blood thing. Which? Total bummer.”

“Hm, how does that work, exactly? I’ve seen you eat my cooking, Prompto.”

Prompto shrugs.

“I can eat human food, but too much of it makes my stomach hurt?”

“How much would that be?” asks Ignis, curiously.

“Uh, two bites.”

“ _Prompto_.”

“Hey, I would rather get stomachaches for the rest of my life than never eat your food again, man.”

Prompto figures it must be a trick of the lighting. There’s no way Ignis is  _blushing_.

“I don’t like the idea of you hurting yourself like that.”

“Your cooking is worth it,” Prompto assures him. “Just think of it like me being super sensitive to lactose and still eating pizza.”

“Do you?”

“That’s neither here nor there.”

Ignis shakes his head at him, but he doesn’t even try to hide the smile taking over his face, so Prompto counts that as a win.

“Unbelievable,” drawls Ignis. "Does Noctis know about this?"

"You're the first one I've told," he admits.

Ignis gives him a look. "You've been dealing with this on your own for years?" 

Prompto shifts uncomfortably under Ignis' inscrutable gaze. 

"It's not exactly something I can bring up in casual conversation, Iggy. I didn't want to scare you guys, either."

 _I didn't want you guys to leave_ , he adds on silently. He thinks Ignis might hear it anyway.

"You can now talk to me," says Ignis, seriously. "I don't like the idea of you having to handle this on your own." 

Prompto's chest tightens, and he has to force himself to meet Ignis' gaze. "You don't have to do that." 

"I want to." 

"You want to sit there and watch me drink blood? Not gonna lie, Igs, that's a troubling kink." 

Instead of answering, Ignis takes a step towards him, and brings up a damp paper towel -- when did he have time to grab one, nonetheless run it under the sink? -- to gently wipe the dried blood off of Prompto's chin. Prompto breathes heavily through his nose and tries not to think about  _just_ how close Ignis is now. Close enough that Prompto can see the faint splatter of acne scarring over sharp cheekbones. 

It feels like the breath has been knocked out of him, like the floor has been ripped out from under them. Prompto feels rather exposed. This is one secret he never thought he'd have to part with. Keeping how far he's fallen for Ignis to himself is proving to be more difficult than he thought. 

As it turns out, revealing secrets doesn't seem so hard after you've already aired a different one. There isn't a lot stopping him from surging up on his toes to press a kiss to Ignis' mouth, but luckily he dredges up the last of his self-control. 

"I want to help you, Prompto," Ignis tells him, voice but a whisper. "No matter what that entails. You're not alone in this any longer." 

 _Oh, buddy_ , Prompto thinks, bitterly, _if only you knew._

"Thank you, Ignis," he forces out. 

"You're welcome, Prompto. Now, I believe I interrupted you?" 

Prompto's eyes widen, and he glances at the half-empty mug of blood resting inconspicuously on their counter. He had forgotten he hadn't gotten his full, but now it's suddenly the only thing he can think about. 

"This doesn't weird you out?" 

Ignis' mouth twitches upwards. "I've learned to take the unexpected in stride." 

Prompto supposes that's true. He  _is_ the advisor to the prince of Lucis, after all. 

He takes a hesitant sip from the mug, and once Ignis doesn't suddenly burst from the room screaming, Prompto's shoulders relax. 

"You know, I was kidding about the whole watching me drink blood thing," Prompto says, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "But if that's really a thing for you--" 

Ignis simply smirks at him ominously. "Morning is the perfect time for revelations, don't you think?" 

All the blood Prompto finished drinking rushes to his cheeks. "Is it?" He asks, voice cracking. 

Ignis tucks some of Prompto's stray strands of hair behind his ear. "Quite. I do believe we're going to be late for training if we don't get a move on, however." 

Ignis steps away from him after that, and Prompto watches him walk towards his bedroom through heavy-lidded eyes. He downs the rest of his breakfast in a single gulp, and races towards the bathroom to brush his teeth.  

He can examine  _what_ exactly Ignis meant by that, once his mouth no longer tastes like ass. 

 

 

-☆-

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> so, that happened! sorry if it seemed kind of rushed at the end, i couldn't really fit in explicit love declarations without it getting even longer. i hope the implications were enough, though! i might write a companion piece with some biting kink or someth but idk if you guys would be into that? 
> 
> let me know what you think!!


End file.
